Goodbye to a Christian gentleman

This year, in celebration of what would have been my great-grandpa's hundredth birthday, the Smith side of my family is having a huge family reunion. Unfortunately, we won't be in Utah til the middle of August, so we're missing out.

Although I'm not there in person, I thought it would be fun to celebrate by sharing a nice homage to him written after his death in December 1990. Since I was only 7 months old when he died, this article has done a lot for me to get to know him better. Enjoy!

Utah!

I'm not ashamed to admit that I love Utah. I love the mountains. I love the brilliantly blue skies. I love the canyons. I love the red rocks. I love that they try and maintain roads there (unlike here, where every major road is riddled with potholes). I love the down-to-earth, selfless people. I love that new businesses can thrive there. I love the temples. I kind of love that high schools and colleges engrave their initials on hills and mountains (which they do in Britain, too, by the way). I love that cities there aren't bankrupt the way Detroit is.

But I don't love everything about Utah. I don't love that 4th graders are bussed to Promontory Point to celebrate the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad in the middle of nowhere. Why did they have to finish in May. And why did my mom have to put freezer-burned ice cubes in my water bottle so that I nearly died of dehydration when we went because I couldn't drink my nasty water. I don't love that I-15 is kind of the only way to get north and south and that it always has construction. I don't love the inversion.  I don't love all the fault lines along the mountains. I don't love all the billboards, especially the ones about plastic surgery. I don't love that some places are kind of weird in that they do Twilight-themed Activity Days for 8-11 year old girls.

Despite its faults and fault lines, I think I would like to end up in Utah. However, sometimes I hear anecdotes that make me wonder if I would fit in. What if we ended up in a ward where people cared a lot about appearances? What if it were difficult to maintain certain standards because we didn't want to come across as self-righteous?

I was talking to a friend about it and voiced some of my concerns. She said that she wasn't too worried about ending up in a ward like that. She felt that even in a ward like that, there would still be a lot to learn from other ward members. And hey, if you don't like the culture -- fix it! If you don't like people from Utah or Utah County or BYU or wherever, be one of the ones that people can like.

So that's my response from now on to people who hate on Utah. Because Utah is awesome, no matter what you say.

After all, there's this!

and this!

 and this!

 and this!

and this!

hi kevin

and views like this!

And where else but Utah would you get fabulous music like this?

Hooray for Utah! And Happy Pioneer Day!

Traveling abroad with a 1-year-old

It was intense. It was crazy. And yet we did it and loved it.

And a lot of my inspiration came from this blog post: http://lovetaza.com/2012/12/traveling-abroad-with-littles/

If you are thinking of traveling abroad with a little one, I recommend reading that post and its comments carefully. However, there were a few things we did differently. Some of them worked, and some of them didn't.

0. First off, recognize you are not the Rockstar Diaries family. Once I realized that, I was able to relax a bit. We didn't have to do things the exact same. We weren't as well-dressed or stylin' and our camera isn't as fancy. And that's okay. We still had fun.

With that out of the way, here's my two cents on their advice.

1. stay flexible with your itinerary, pace yourself -- Yes. When you have a 1-year-old, you simply cannot see all the things that you could with just two adults. It's not fair to your baby. So prioritize what you want to see, and let other things slide a little. We even just had a few days where we spent most of the time home playing with the Seamons -- and those were great days.

When it came down to it, we only needed to see one castle, one palace, one abbey, one major art museum, etc. to feel satisfied. This might not be true for everyone, but it's how we felt. All the architecture can become overwhelming if you see too much too fast. On the other hand, parks never got tiresome for us. Joseph loved it when he had a chance to stretch his legs.

1 1/2. As a side note, we didn't end up getting the London Pass or Museum pass. It ended up being cheaper to do things ala carte since we didn't end up doing as much. In retrospect, we probably would have used the Paris Museum pass, but we didn't think ahead enough.

One thing to keep in mind is that babies can throw off your pacing. For example, one museum we were both interested in cost a little more than we had planned, but we would have been game had we not had Joseph with us. We realized that since he had been kind of fussy that day, we would have rushed through the museum and not gotten to fully enjoy it. If we'd had a pass, we probably would have gone through the museum regardless of Joseph's mood since we'd already paid for it. Oh well.

2. pack light Yep. It's possible. We packed a diaper bag along with two backpacks, but that was it. Although we didn't travel a ton, it made it a lot easier for the few times we found ourselves on and off trains a lot (such as the first night in Paris). We packed diapers with us and enjoyed watching our load get lighter and lighter. We didn't take many clothes, went light on the toiletries, and wore a lot layers, especially when we flew from England to Paris.

3. take a stroller --and have your kids nap on the go -- We decided to take an umbrella stroller. We were able to use a normal stroller in most of England that we had borrowed from the Seamons, but we only had the umbrella stroller in London and Paris. It sure was nice to have something compact when we were getting on and off trains and around on narrow sidewalks, but it was harder for Joseph to fall asleep in, made for a bumpier ride, and didn't have storage space like a normal stroller. I'd still recommend it though.

Oh, and the whole "have your kids nap on the go" thing might be easier if your kids are used to it. We probably should have practiced before going.

Always a miracle

4. travel at off season for better prices and to avoid crowds of tourists -- oops. June is not the off-season. Although I will say that I was pleasantly surprised with how short the lines were, particularly at the Louvre and the Eiffel tower. And if you see the grounds of Versailles in the morning and the palace in the afternoon, the line is much shorter.

Somewhat related is to choose your airport carefully. We only live 4 hours from the Toronto airport, and international flights are much cheaper there compared to other nearby airports (even Chicago). We ended up paying just about $700 a ticket (plus $50 for Joseph, plus $80 to pick our seats [okay that probably was a racket, but I didn't know what to do otherwise and it sounded like we had to with a baby]) when we bought our tickets in March. Meanwhile, tickets from Detroit were like $1200 back in March. Yikes. So, shop around.

5. stay in the center of it all. splurge for a room with a view if you can. We did this in Paris, and boy was it nice to be within walking distance of most everything we wanted to see. Transportation can add so much time and expense and inconvenience to a trip, and it was nice to not worry about it too much in Paris. I'm glad we stayed with friends while in England, even if it meant we had to commute some, but I think it's worth it to try and get a place in the heart of a city.

Also, we had very good luck with Airbnb. We had a nice king-sized bed, ample space, beautiful bathroom, washer and dryer, all for $109 a night. In the middle of Paris. It was a miracle. If you ever try out Airbnb, I would recommend reading reviews of potential hosts and booking early (we failed there) so you can be confident in your decision.

Where we stayed. Actually, just kidding -- this is at Versailles. But our room was still really nice.

Now for other pieces of advice, here they are:

• If you have to choose between the Louvre and the d'Orsay, probably go with the d'Orsay if you're going for aesthetics. The sculptures in the Louvre were incredible, but most of the art was too academic for me. The d'Orsay had all of the beautiful Impressionistic art that makes my soul sing. Plus, since we got there after 5, it was free. We only had 45 minutes to roam before closing, but that was enough for me. Note that no pictures are allowed.
• If you want to take the Chunnel, book tickets about the same time you would buy plane tickets. Turns out high-speed rail just gets more expensive as you get closer to the date. We kept waiting and waiting because we weren't sure which day we wanted to go to Paris. Then when we had everything else scheduled, we sort of forgot about the Chunnel. And then we tried to book it and it became crazy expensive. So we ended up using easyJet, which is like RyanAir, which is cheap flights throughout Europe, as long as you only have one personal item each. It ended up working out just fine, but I felt pretty sheepish about letting that one slide.
• Don't wean your baby before you go. It was so nice not having to worry too much about feeding Joseph grownup food or getting milk for him. As the trip progressed I became increasingly bold about nursing in public, and no one minded. It took us a long time to get back into normal schedules and habits again once we were home, but I think it was worth it.
• Dress nicely. People take you more seriously, and you feel more comfortable. Scarves are a good idea.
• Don't go for longer than you can handle. I remember thinking after we'd just been in Europe for 5 days, "We can't go home for another week and a half???" Turns out that Kevin and I get tired of vacations faster than we realized. Switching things up by going to Paris helped with that, but in the future we'll probably only take week-long vacations. (oh wait. we're going to Utah for two weeks next month.)
• Don't get sick. We didn't, and it made the trip much more enjoyable.

And the biggest piece of advice I can offer to you who travel with infants:

• Don't. Lose. Your. Baby's. Pacifier!!!! And for the love of all that's good, if you do lose it, bring a spare that your baby will accept.
  
  So, we have actually been really good at keeping tabs on Joseph's pacifier. The first one we lost was when he was more than 10 months old. We were on our way home from a fireside in Livonia and he got hungry. So we pulled into a parking lot and I nursed him. Then I guess when I was moving him back from my seat to his car seat, his pacifier must have slid off my lap into the parking lot because we haven't seen it since.
  
  But that had been the only time we had lost a pacifier. So I felt pretty confident that we could keep tabs on one for two more weeks. Then at the end of our visit to Cambridge, I nursed Joseph in the car in the parking lot. And I guess when I was moving him from my seat to his car seat, his pacifier must have slid off my lap into the parking lot because we haven't seen it since. (Sound familiar?)
  
  And, surprise, none of the local stores carried the Soothie type of pacifier that are given out in US hospitals. So we went through like 4 pacifiers and he refused them all day after day after day. This made jet lag even harder. It made teething even harder (yes, he chose the best time to cut 3 teeth). It made car rides even harder. If Joseph wasn't just naturally a happy guy, I don't know how we could have made it (and luckily, he didn't miss it as much as he could have, so he was still very pleasant most of the time). So, just don't lose your baby's pacifier. Chances are you all already have clips and whatnot to keep pacifiers attached, so I'm preaching to the choir. And I'm the one who's singing out of tune.
  
  On the bright side, hey, he's weaned from his pacifier now! He can even go to sleep without it now!

If you're still reading this, I'm very impressed. I hope I haven't scared you off too much. Travel is definitely possible, though it does take some adjustments. But people will be so kind and accommodating. You will appreciate the sights in a way you never could without a bright-eyed baby. It will be one of the best adventures of your life. Bon voyage!

Learning to love Paris, part 3

The key to loving the culture was also to look up. And look up. And look up.

It wasn't that everyone fit the snooty stereotype. Far from it. Everyone was exceptionally kind to Joseph, from the old French men also visiting Versailles to the security guards at the museums. Most of the people at restaurants and grocery stores were also friendly to us all.

But I still felt a disconnect from Paris which bothered me. Each aloof or grumpy baker, each phrase at the train station that I couldn't decipher with my 10 days of studying French in May was yet another sign that we didn't belong here. And after being gone from home for more than a week, I wasn't sure I wanted to be here anyway.

And still, I tried to fit in. I memorized several phrases and tried the best I could to pronounce things correctly. Kevin and I would say "Bonjour" the moment we walked into a store and "Au revoir" as we left, hoping that we were polite enough. On the way back from Versailles, I sat next to a French teacher from Florida on a cultural exchange with her students and asked her what we could do to not rub people the wrong way.

For the most part, it worked. When it didn't, I felt confused and disappointed. I would wonder why on earth we had chosen to come here in the first place. I had never really cared about seeing things like the Eiffel tower. What I had been excited to see -- Versailles and the Louvre -- had not lived up to my dreams. Versailles felt so artificial and self-centered compared to all the cathedrals I had been to that I just couldn't love it as much as I had dreamed. The Louvre had been, well, rather fleshy. Although I wasn't bothered by all the voluptuous and nude women (and found some of the paintings even comical, like the one of a woman squirting milk at her baby), it became tiresome to go through room after room of it, especially with hardly any landscapes to add variety. For me, looking at portraits was about as interesting as looking at my cousin's yearbook. I didn't know who any of the people were, and I didn't really care about looking at pictures of them. And I would wonder again why we came.

When these moments would hit, when I was discouraged and affronted and disillusioned, I would think, "There must be a reason people love Paris." I racked my brain for reasons Paris mattered to me. The food, yes, most of the food had been good, especially the bread and crepes. Ummm, the Enlightenment. Yes, I was a fan of Pascal. And Claude Shannon! The father of information theory! Who shared my birthday! He had a French-sounding name, so he must have been from Paris! Spurred on by thoughts of these heroes, I realized that Paris did in fact matter to me.*

And things started to look up. On Sunday, we went to church and were surrounded by familiarity, playing the "put two Mormons in a room and see who they both know" game. Finding a community we belonged to in Paris itself helped bridge a gap between the two cultures. After all, if we belonged to the church, and the church belonged in Paris, maybe we could belong there, too. Later that afternoon, when we were finally able to get to know our hosts better, I felt joy as we were able to connect. Even though logically I knew all along that the city was full of real, live, intelligent, wonderful people, it was remarkable how my perception changed as I actually got to talk with these real, live, intelligent, wonderful people.

So the next day, I was ready to love Paris. Torrential downpours and fears of long lines at the Eiffel Tower couldn't dissuade me. Once the rains stopped, we walked right into the local bakery for the last time with smiles on our faces. We had gone in with friendly touristy smiles before, but now our smiles came more naturally.

And, miracle of miracles, our smiles were returned! The beautiful blond baker, who had always seemed impatient and busy as she had taken our orders, seemed genuinely happy to see us. She smiled at Joseph and even gave him a free pastry. Spurred on by her friendliness and the delicious macaron we had bought, we walked through the city looking up and enjoying the beauty. Everything seemed to be going right. The weather was perfect. Parc Monceau was beautiful, and it even had drinking fountains. We found beautiful flower gardens. Joseph was content. The line at the Eiffel Tower was short.

As we stood there, gazing at the beautiful city, I realized that I sort of did love Paris. It wasn't what I was used to, and I didn't like everything about it, but there was still a great deal of good to be admired. Parisians could be proud to belong to such a beautiful, cultured city.

And I was glad I could visit.

*Actually, Claude Shannon is from Michigan, of all places. So we didn't need to go to Paris. We needed to walk up the road. Ha. At least my delusion helped me enjoy Paris more.

The Jabber-Walky

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabber-walk, my son!

The jaws that bite, 

 the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand;

Long time the manxome foe he sought --

So rested he by the Tumtum tree;

And stood awhile in thought. 

And, as in uffish thought he stood,

  The Jabber-walk, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

  And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through

  The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head

  He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabber-walk?

  Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"

  He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,

  And the mome raths outgrabe.

Learning to love Paris, part 2

The key, I found, was to keep looking up, both figuratively and literally.

After a few days in Paris, I felt like I could describe it in three words -- dirty, smelly, and beautiful. If I looked at the ground at all, all I could think of was "dirty." Cigarette butts everywhere. Sidewalks which were rarely swept. The occasional piece of trash. Of course, it's not fair to judge a city by its worst traits, so I tried to avoid looking down.

If I kept my eyes at eye level, though, the overwhelming sensation was not sight but rather smell. Nearly everyone smoked, and my lungs burned with the smell. Many of the streets just had a vague scent of the sewers and dirty rain water. And of course, there were the positive smells, too -- the baguettes, pastries, and fruit all smelled divine. Although this may have been the most comprehensive and realistic representation of the city, I still didn't want it to be my final impression of it.

So I looked up. And there I would see beautiful white buildings, with intricate railings and bright, cheery flowerboxes. I loved how the buildings took whichever shape best fit with the many intersecting streets of Paris. As I took time to notice the beauty around (or at least above) me, I was able to marvel rather than grumble. Learning to love the style and charm of Paris turned out to be relatively easy.

Learning to love the culture itself, though . . . now that took some work. :)

Learning to love Paris, part 1

France was not easy to love, initially. Oh, I suppose that my first glimpse was positive, seeing the vibrant countryside as we flew in from the dusty Luton airport. Unlike the small, oddly shaped fields in England which reminded me of a speckled paint-by-numbers or mosaic, these fields were vast and golden-green, reminding me of fields in America. Our plane touched down early, and it seemed we had an auspicious start to our stay.

But fate had other plans. We were welcomed in true French style at the end of a strike. The airport as a whole seemed undermanned, and those there seemed sour and unhappy to be there. We were rushed through customs, and the official didn't even bother stamping our passports. Then we waited for our lone checked item -- a small umbrella stroller. Minutes passed, and we watched the other passengers grab their luggage and leave. And still no sign of our stroller. Just when we were beginning to worry, we noticed that the only other passengers left were those with young children -- they were waiting for their strollers too. Finally, after several minutes, once the sky was nearly dark, our stroller was finally brought in from the plane. We quickly grabbed it and hurried to an ATM to exchange some euros and purchase train tickets.

Of course, these simple tasks took several attempts. Credit cards were denied. Confusing instructions were given. We were able to get cash from the ATM but were never able to get the ticket machine to work. We panicked and joined everyone else in the Information line. After a few minutes, they informed us that due to a strike, we didn't need tickets to ride the train into Paris. So we hurried to catch the train. On our way down the escalator, we saw the second-to-last train leave without us.

And then we waited. And waited. And waited. And another train did come. We got on and continued to wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, at 10:43, the train departed, stopping at every little station between the airport and the depot. Once we were at the depot, we scurried on and off stops at the metro. I imagined myself as sort of a refugee -- hungry, thirsty, ashen, carrying a sleeping baby in my arms, with a heavy backpack on my back. My mind was numb and all I could do was follow Kevin on and off the trains.

But then we finally reached a stop we deemed close enough to where we were staying, so we exited the Metro and entered Paris. It was close to midnight by this time, and the city was full of glittering lights and pedestrian-disregarding automobiles. The streets were moderately full of people enjoying the nightlife. My brain couldn't comprehend how anyone could be having fun at the time. We wandered up and down a few streets, increasingly weighed down by our backpacks and baby. And then we finally found it -- our Airbnb reservation. My brain perked up enough for me to remember to smile and say hello and then apologize for being late. Our hostess seemed tired but was kind. She showed us our room. A big, comfortable bed. A private bathroom. A washer and dryer.  A clean, beautiful room. When we were alone, Kevin and I melted onto the bed in relief.

Paris could yet redeem itself.

Megan Stories

Guys, I am so excited. My cousin Megan comes home from her mission tomorrow! I will have 7 glorious days of not having a missionary to write before Jennie goes off on her mission to Atlanta.

So instead of writing to Megan, I think I'm going to write about Megan. Mwahaha.

My first memory of Megan was, oh goodness, probably Christmas in Kansas? Or playing at their house in Las Vegas? I dunno. I do remember one time we were all in the same bedroom in Las Vegas and one of our moms came in and woke us up and said, "Princess Diana just died." I had never heard of her, so I wasn't too upset.

Speaking of princesses, though, that is what we (including Leslie) often were when we played together. We tended to follow a simple formula:

1. Choose from the following: pioneer, princess, Nephite, or, I dunno, mermaid.
2. Kill off all the parents. All of them. Always.
3. Have imaginary villains, unless some of our boy cousins were willing to play along and risk making us cry.
4. Get kidnapped multiple times.
5. Never quite resolve things before it was time to go.

And one of us always had to have "Rose" as part of our princess/pioneer name.

As we got older, we moved our stories onto different mediums. There was a stage where we drew a lot of princesses and pioneers and mansions. There was a stage where we played a lot of Oregon Trail II and acted out what happened on the screen. And then there was the stage where we wrote down our stories. I think this series of journal entries from our pioneer saga just about sums us up:

Megan (aka Melissa): “Father blessed me before he died. He said that if I would hold to the iron rod I would be able to endure.”
Kyra (aka Katherine): “Father blessed me. He said that if I would hold to the iron rod I would become great and marry a wonderful, righteous man.”
Leslie (aka Jolie): “Katherine is sweet, but she is a few feet down the iron rod. I mean that in the best way possible.”

Oh, I could go on and on and on. Basically, having a cousin like Megan was the best thing ever because
a) She was very kind.
b) She was easy to get along with (which was very important for stubborn ol' me).
c) She was a good influence on me.
d) We saw each other frequently enough that we were good friends.
e) We saw each other infrequently enough that we both knew deep down we couldn't afford to spend too much time fighting, the way you can with sisters.

So welcome home, Megan! I look forward to continuing our adventures soon!

The answers

Wow. I am so impressed with everyone who participated. Particularly with those who managed to tell what landmarks were on the geography shirt. Had I not already known the answers, I don't think I could have recognized the worn-out blobs on the shirt. So good job, everyone.

In case you would like to know the answers, here they are:

1. NYC skyline. (Remember that shirt was made in 1999, so the Twin Towers still existed)
2. St. Basil's at Red Square
3. Leaning Tower of Pisa
4. Statue of Liberty
5. Sydney Opera House
6. Pyramid at Giza
7. Stonehenge
8. Independence Hall
9. Eiffel Tower
10. Gateway Arch in St. Louis
11. Empire State Building
12. Forbidden City
13. Golden Pavilion (Japan)
14. Easter Island
15. Arc de Triomphe
16. Washington Memorial
17. Kinderdijk (I accepted any variation of "windmills in Holland" though)
18. Westminster Abbey
19. Lincoln Memorial
20. Alamo
21. Cristo Redentor in Rio de Janeiro
22. Brandenburg Gate
23. Space Needle
24. Taj Mahal
25. Dome of the Rock
26. Parthenon

For the math shirt, the answers are:

1. Phi is an embedding from Z^n to R^n
2. Moebius Strip
3. The cardinality (order) of the rationals is equal to the cardinality (order) of the naturals, called aleph not.
4. (P implies Q) is equivalent to (not P OR Q)
5. A cube, the 6-sided platonic solid.
6. A two-state Markov model.
7. Trefoil knot.
8. Dodecahedron, 12 sided platonic solid.
9. Sum of the integers from 1 to n.
10. Mandelbrot set.
11. DeMorgan's Law.
12. Taylor series expansion for the exponential function.
13. Navier Stokes Equation.
14. Octahedron, the 8-sided platonic solid.
15. Visual representation of the integral from a to b.
16. nth dihedral group.
17. pi function, the asymptotic density of the primes.
18. Definition of the set of rational numbers.
19. We'll talk about this one.
20. Cauchy integral formula, or winding number
21. Figure 8 knot.
22. Fundamental Theorem of Calculus, or Leibniz rule for integration
23. Tetrahedron, the 4-sided platonic solid
24. Unfolding of the torus onto the plane.
25. 1st isomorphism theorem. (or close enough)
26. Isocahedron.
27. Gamma function, the analytical extension of the factorial function.
28. Euler's formula.
29. Roots of the quadratic equation.
30. The golden ratio, phi, equal to (1+sqrt(5))/2

The geography contest had a clear winner. Congrats Daniel Larsen -- a $5 Amazon gift card is coming your way!
For the math contest, James Dilts beat my dad by just a hair. Congrats James!
For the overall contest, it was again neck and neck, since my dad and James had the same number of geography landmarks right. But since James won math, he again won overall! So a $10 Amazon gift card is coming your way!

As for some of my favorite answers . . .
2.  Храм святого Василия Блаженного, на Красной Площади в Москве. (Which is probably correct. I just can't tell.)
3. Church Office Building
8. Clock tower from back to the future/Um ... there are lots of buildings that look like that, I'm sure. The Ogden Temple?/The church building in the illustration for AoF 11/no idea but it looks like an lds temple
11. Um.  It's a tower.
12. Carousel of happiness.
15. Triumphal arch or pants/arch of malstorm (what is that Spencer?)
16. Shed snake skin.
17. Windmill in Wamego, KS. (Sorry Nathan. I don't even know where Wamego is.)
18. The home of the old woman who lived in a shoe.
19. Shapeless blob on a T-shirt. Yeah. I can see that.
20. Something I'm supposed to remember in San Antonio.
22. Hogle Zoo, elephant cage/Mesa Arizona Temple with flag on top
26. Piranha head on a T-shirt

And then what my uncle said about the math contest:
No, I cannot. But I did find the quadratic formula, my name, a pi(e), a pretzel, an upside-down pretzel, a deformed turtle, a soccer ball, circuit=donut, I co-sign with Theta, and a something that looks like a dreidel. Oh, and it looks like someone started to play hangman.


oh, and about #19 -- I actually am not sure about this one anymore. James said it was "The infinite cover of a circle wedge a circle, or a representation of the simple group generated by two elements" which was the most definitive thing I saw, but I'm still not sure about that. Want to back that up?